


Making a Choice

by Journalist101



Category: Dancing with the Stars (US) RPF
Genre: F/M, Love Triangles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-22
Updated: 2015-07-15
Packaged: 2018-03-31 17:30:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3986662
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Journalist101/pseuds/Journalist101
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stuck between a rock and a hard place, sometimes distance is a great place to see what you really want.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. His

**Author's Note:**

> Just a little one-shot I thought of while working on a different story.

There are always two choices in life and your life is no exception. There’s one that’s safe and the other dangerous. And sitting here, from the safety of your hotel room, you scoff at whoever said you can’t be in love with two people at the same time, they were dead wrong. Because they've clearly never lived your life and honestly, you wouldn't wish it on your worst enemy. 

Falling in love with the first was as easy as breathing–-automatic. She's smart, sexy, passionate and just a little possessive of you. And once you invited her into your life, she just fits in your life seamlessly, so easily it’s hard to imagine a time whenever she wasn’t there. She gets it; her background is similar and she was a friend first. There’s no need to change anything or work to try and accommodate her because she’s just a match–she likes your family, she fits in with your friends, she’s there for you. And maybe the first go around didn't work because you weren't ready but this time, it's different, you tell yourself. You've both matured and grown as people in your time apart but there's one thing you're positive about, the love isn't fiery. It’s not a big, cinematic love but it’s love just the same. It’s surprisingly gentle and oh so easy. And in a different life you could be content, in a different life this would be perfect. But reality is so much worse.

In reality, the second could be the great love of your life; the love that people write epics about, the love that inspires novels, the love like Darcy and Elizabeth or Romeo and Juliet shared. And it’s strange because she’s not what you imagined, when you first met her. She’s not really your type. She's quieter, sweeter, almost fairytale princess-like. She's got this childlike enthusiasm for life and she's grounded, no jealousy or fights. In reality, she's steady and she makes you want to be a better person, she challenges you. She’s different, and she doesn’t fit nearly as seamlessly, because she has different goals. She’s got her own life and her own stories and they don’t run parallel to your’s, which is why you think neither one of you pursued your astounding chemistry to begin with. And it would be truly difficult to make it work with her but you know true passion when you are with her. Even your family knows there's a difference between you when you're with her.

But she’s not the one you are with, she’s just the friend, though. And you know it’s wrong because falling in love with her was so unplanned, so reckless, so foolish yet you did it anyway. You just couldn’t help yourself. She managed to invade your life, your space until you can’t imagine life without her. It wasn't a gradual fall, it was so fast and unexpected you didn't even realize you were in so deep until it was already too late. So you’re stuck between to different women.

Stuck between safe, predictable love and unexpected, dangerous love. And sometimes it feels like everyone knows, expect for them. Maybe they have inklings but neither has really confronted you about the truth. And the truth is even though you may be in a relationship with one and the other has a boyfriend, you can’t imagine a time when they’re not in your life. And you're two completely different people when you're with the two of them. Sometimes when you're with the first girl, you're the old you--loud, arrogant, and unbelievably selfish, yet somehow charming as people often remark. But when you're with the second girl, you're a lot more focused, a lot more relaxed, more mature. But you wonder if it's just because of their conflicting personalities. One's like a shot of whisky, fiery and burning, while the other is like a fine glass of wine, smooth and light.

Sometimes, you wonder if you should just propose to the first girl, end all the debate. She works, she fits easily. The narrative doesn’t need to change, your life can go on uninterrupted and you know she'd be thrilled. She would love nothing more than for you to make that commitment. And you could be happy with her. But the ending feels stale and wrong when you try it out in your head. And you know it’s not right to settle, for either of your sakes but sometimes you can’t help but think settling is the only thing your capable of doing–-it fits the story and your life. Because at the end of the day, you're not sure you have the ability to change, you always seem to revert to your worst self.

But other times, you imagine a time when the second girl really loves you back. And you can see a different story, a really different one where there’s a lot of hard work, a lot of sacrifice, but you think that it could be worth it. Your love would be epic, it would be worth all the trials and make it that much more special because you triumphed over all the challenges. A great love story to tell, a great love story that you would get to live out. And you would be the person who deserves her, the person who she would be proud to be with. But it’s not a guarantee–she does have that boyfriend and you have a girlfriend–so it makes it risky, difficult, dangerous. And you're so afraid sometimes about screwing everything up, that you think maybe it would be easier to just stay in her life as a friend than risk losing her by really telling her your feelings.

So that’s why your sitting here, straddling the line between two different paths, two different women, women who you love, hoping for a sign. And no matter how hard you try, you can’t seem to picture a future without either one. And it's maddening because you can picture your future with each of them so clearly in your mind. So you do nothing, walking a fine line between the two, playing two different people. It's enough to drive a sane person mad and sometimes you wonder if you really are mad, if you've really succumbed to the madness. And your family knows but they won't pick for you--they just give you sympathetic glances and some offer thinly veiled comments telling you to be a man and make a choice, insinuating that you're hopeless and irresponsible. And you wonder why you can’t just choose until one night, when you are a thousand miles away from both, you finally realize what you want.  
  
You've always prayed for a sign but this one is probably one the silliest signs you could have asked for. It’s stupid, but you see a picture, a picture that's so adorably her, and you just can’t help yourself, you’re smiling like an idiot. And then you know. You know that she's the only one you can picture your future with, the only one you can picture marrying and raising a family with, growing old together. You know that she’s the one. And in that moment, you know what you need to do so you pick up the phone and dial a number, and as soon as they pick up, you say, “We need to talk.”


	2. Hers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes, you just know--you can't fit a square peg into a round hole.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've decided to turn this into a three-shot due to some people asking. Enjoy and leave me a note.

In some ways, your life is considered perfect. Right boyfriend, right job, right friends, everything is neatly in place—orderly and tidy, just the way you like it, just the way you envisioned it. You’re at that point in your life when everything you’ve ever wanted is right there for the taking, so close you can taste it. The world is your oyster and it’s all there, right at your fingertips. You’re secure in your relationship, or as secure as you’ll ever be, and you’re happy. You’re a woman who has it all but sometimes; you forget how fragile it all is until it begins to crumble like sand in your hands.

 

You love him; you’ve always loved him. It’s not a secret; you’ve made it plain, clear as day. And you like to think you aren’t a jealous creature that people imagine you to be in some ways. Perhaps you’re not as likeable as you would like to be but you have a fiery personality and there’s something to be said about being a beautiful woman who likes being sexy. You’re not vindictive—or rather you hope you aren’t—and you’re not _too_ possessive. But you can’t help yourself, because you love him.

 

Loving someone is hard. It’s not easy; it’s not all fun and games. It’s hard work, some sacrifice and a lot of compromise. You wonder if though you give him everything if it will ever be enough. Because sometimes, not often, but sometimes you see this wild look in his eyes that says he yearns for more. He wants more and you’ve given him everything so you have nothing left to give. Love isn’t supposed to be that way but you can’t help yourself from falling back into a pattern, a rhythm as comfortable as the past.

 

There was once a time, when you couldn’t recognize him. You’ll admit that once he was a better man. You’re woman enough to admit that there was something different, better about him when there was this other woman in the picture. She’s just a friend, just a friend who he cares about deeply. They have a unique bond, so everyone says. You feel the side glances people give you when they talk about it. And you hear their whispers tapper off when you enter a room and you know what they’re talking about.

 

He was a better man, you’ll admit when he was closer to her or he could have just been trying to be a better man—you’re never quite sure with him. But something shifted that relationship and he came back to you—just the way you hoped, just the way you planned. You thought you lost him to her, even though she always had this on again off again boyfriend, waiting in the wings.

 

And if you were a petty, jealous woman, you would hate her. Hate everything about her because she’s almost perfect in many ways. She’s sweeter than sugar but with none of the artificialness; she’s a strong woman with quiet strength, she’s smart and talented and damn if she doesn’t have great chemistry with him. Chemistry that burns hotter than your own and people adore them together—much more than they ever liked you and him the first go around and exponentially more than they like you this time—damn people on the internet, who just can’t leave you alone. But you like her, despite wanting to hate her, because she’s just so inherently good and nice. And in a different life you could be best friends with her.

 

Perhaps, you shouldn’t push him as hard. Dropping clues in interviews about marriage or plastering his picture on social media, but the insecure woman in you, no matter how small, feels a need to mark your territory— _he’s yours._ And you know her subtle distancing from him was a result of that and perhaps the uneasiness of her own significant other. But they’re like magnets, drawn to each other even when they’re a thousand miles away. You know she’s part of the “fam” and she’s good friends with his brother but sometimes, you wish you could have a break from her. And you won’t pretend you weren’t secretly pleased when he publically commented on your relationship while seamlessly denying ever having a more than platonic relationship with her.

 

At you’re worst, you imagine that his family prefers her to you but you’re not one to dwell in insecurity for long. You have him. You love him and he loves you. It’s all that matters—until she’s invited into your world for a brief appearance and she brings everything back. But that’s the bitterest pill to swallow, she floats in and out whenever she wants and he’s still captivated by her. You can almost hear the hero-like worship in his voice when he says, “And she still likes me for some reason.” It’s those moments when you’re reminded how easy it could be to hate her.

 

And right now, you’re miles apart from him but you can’t stop thinking about him. He’s probably out having a great time but you’re a slave to your emotions these days, constantly wanting and denying yourself from checking in on him. You tell yourself, you’re not his mother, and you’re his girlfriend, his partner. But you obsess in ways you didn’t were possible and you realize with some dismay that maybe you aren’t as mature as you thought you were. Maybe you’re not as ready as you once believed because you’re slipping, slipping back into old habits and for once you feel a fear that maybe you don’t have a grasp on everything the way you think you do. But right when you’re pushed to the limits of your control, you hear a faint buzzing.

 

You can’t help the involuntary smile that spreads across your face as you glance down at your phone and see his name and picture flashing across the screen. It’s a great picture of him smiling so brightly with you, his arms around you and your smile bright enough to rival the sun. And when you pick up with a cheerful hello, you can just tell.

 

You can hear it in his voice. His voice always says it all—he was an open book to you in many ways but this time there was a catch in his throat that you can’t quite identify. He’s guarded, hesitant yet self-assured. And something in you shatters. You don’t understand why yet. It hasn’t quite sunk in yet. And yet when he starts speaking, you aren’t quite sure what he’s talking about—hell, you’re not sure he knows what he’s talking about. He’s speaking about signs and rambling like crazy.

 

And that’s when you know. It’s over, he’s only talking about a break but it’s serious this time. There will be no third chance for you. You already had a second chance and a third would have been too much and you know it now. You never really had him again, never really held his heart like the first time and you know it now.

 

Maybe he won’t be with her but one day, perhaps he will be or he’ll find someone who made him a better person like she did. And it’s clear that you were completely right. You gave him everything but it still wasn’t enough and it breaks your heart.

 

You’re numb when you hang up. Sitting there playing with your hands, looking down at your pictures—pictures of the two of you, pictures of him, pictures of how happy you once were. And in a moment of anger, you fling your phone across the bed and drop your head to your hands. You realize that you built your dreams on something that wasn’t quite tangible or sustainable—like a sand castle. That’s the thing about dreams built on sand castles, they crumble and fade when the sea touches them you remind yourself.

 

And then you think about crying, but the tears they just don’t come. You wish they would but instead you can’t help that a smile that crosses your face—no matter how small and tentative it is at a beginning. And it’s then that you realize that it’s all going to be ok. Maybe one day, it will be but you smile because life is will go on and one day you’ll love another man who will give you all that you need, who will make you into a better woman, who you will have made a better man.

 

And that’s life, you decide because though you thought you had it all, you realize it was an illusion you concocted to try and make it fit with the way your life was heading and you can’t live on dreams alone, so you smile, sadly, bitterly, hopefully. And life is wonderful because one day, you’ll be on the receiving end a smile quite like that one he makes when he mentions her, and it will be solely for you.


	3. She

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes, things are built to fall apart and come back together.

For once in your life, **there’s no plan.** _You’ve always lived and died by a schedule, a plan._ You’ve had a five-year, a ten year, and yet you’ve completed those plans. You’ve had goals to accomplish, new heights to reach and once you’ve reached the pinnacle, you have no clue how to react. _Can you really peak before your thirtieth birthday?_ God you hope not, but sometimes you wonder. Because when you’ve accomplished the biggest goal you’ve ever had, what else can top it? Everything else seems so mundane, so ordinary, so boring. _So you reached and ended up finding something unexpected—you found a friend, a man who made you more assertive, more confident but he is just a friend._

 

It’s interesting—he’s so not your type. He’s definitely not anyone you ever thought you could picture ending up with even if he does have good looks. He’s just too hot tempered, too loud, too masculine but you’re drawn to him just the same. Who knew that in a few short weeks, you’d make a friend for life? In your wildest dreams, you never quite imagined this. You pictured having a little celebration of your medal and increasing your profile just a little so that you can do something post-Olympics, do something meaningful and increase the presence of ice skating which seemed to be dying slowly. And you’re surprised when you last until the finals. **You win it all with him and its not Olympic Gold but it feels pretty damn good just the same.**

 

And it’s only natural that the affection, the closeness, fades after that, piece by piece. You’re not around him for hours and hours on end and you both drift back to familiar circles. He would never fit, you tell yourself as you contemplate that chemistry that burned so hot and caused many people to ask, no demand, that you two date. He’d never be content in Michigan, he’d never be happy with you on the road for days and days on end, or understand why you still skate when you’ve almost, already decided that it may be time to hang up those skates. Or rather that’s the lies you tell yourself when you find yourself drifting back to your ex-boyfriend—to a guy who has always just been there, who makes it effortless, who makes it easy for you and you like it—the ease, the comfort, the familiarity.

 

 **And so you drift farther and farther apart like two ships passing in the night.** Your star seems to be on the rise with endorsements coming in and opportunities you would never have dreamed of showing up on your doorstep while you watch helplessly as his seems to fall a little by little, piece by piece, in a tangle of comments, scandals and implications. His life has always been rife with controversy. And it’s in those moments, you’re reminded how different you really were—how different he was with you than he is now.

 

And you try not to feel the pang of disappointment when you see him fall further and further away from you, relegating you to nothing, an acquaintance instead of a good friend—instead of a person who you think he may have once loved. It hits harder than ever at his dance event, when he, at first, seemed so much like the old him but you watched when you mentioned your old boyfriend how his eyes dulled themselves and he began to distance himself from you.

 

You’re not terribly surprised when he gets back together with his ex-girlfriend, after all isn’t that what you did? But unlike him, you keep the confidence that he instilled in you whereas he retreats further and further into his old self. Perhaps it’s a natural regression, you say, maybe it’s just a funk—is he depressed? You think about reaching out with a text or a call but you remember, he’s not feeling that contact anymore. He does not want it; he’s been ignoring you quite staunchly since January.

 

And you say good riddance with a toss of your head, but you know deep inside it hurts more than you imagined. _He hurt you and maybe you hurt him but you were right too._ You had the world at your feet with no plan and you wanted to enjoy it and he was in a different place as well— **supposedly getting older and more mature, yearning for something more than you were capable or even ready to give** but you do wonder when you see another tasteless social media post and rant if you were right—about his maturity.

 

And to be honest, you long for what your partner and his fiancée, who happens to be one of your best friends, have.  You watch them over a glass of champagne, appropriately weepy in your bridesmaid dress and realize how in love they really are with each other—neither of them would be able to claim that their wedding day wasn’t the happiest day of their life. _Their synchronicity would rival your and your partner’s on ice but this is real life, not play-acting_. **You long for that closeness, that everlasting love that seems to strike you so suddenly but once it hit, it’s for life.** _You long for that look that he gives her and she returns with equal fervor, that tenderness when they touch each other, how each other’s eyes soften when they land on the other and sometimes you wonder if you had it—if you really had it with another man, who wasn’t anything other than a friend._

 

It takes all of your grace and poise to give perfectly crafted answers and smiles, and to pretend that it doesn’t annoy you just a little bit that he’s acting like you never existed. You’re lucky that your boyfriend never noticed and more than once you wish he cared a little more, you wish he was more involved but you remember that you wanted something so much less than that all encompassing love that someone might have offered.

 

And you sometimes wonder, when you’re alone, if you hate his girlfriend but in reality, you like her. Sure she’s spitfire and she can be possessive and jealous but all women can be. And you know she really loves him and you think that’s half the reason why you like her. You adore his family—his brother treats you like you’re his sister—and you love his friends but _you know that you’ll always be on the edge of the circle, just outside, barely a part of the group._ One cold March day, his brother even visits you once, remarks, rants about how selfish, immature, and irresponsible he is and how he doesn’t recognize him. You listen with a sympathetic ear and retrain yourself from saying you agree— **you don’t know him anymore and you don’t fit.**

 

And you’re were still surprised though when he kept his word to perform some new numbers with you but he seemed worn out, tired, forgetful. Angry with himself and maybe others, you realized when you see his body language change due to a text. And you wondered what made him so different—you hoped it wasn’t because of you. _You told yourself, it’s not your fault, you were never anything with him but the guilt in your heart doesn’t leave you as quickly as the logic in your head says._

 

However, because you’re so out of the loop, you show up to Sway, that dance show that was so awkward back in December so much so that you wonder why you agreed this time, in June for rehearsals and find that the two have broken up. You’re floored and stunned into silence when another dancer whispers it quietly in your ear when you get in. It seems so out of character—it seems so sudden. You follow them both on Instagram and social media—call it a hard habit to break—and up a week ago you could swear she was still gushing about him all over the media. **And suddenly everyone’s eyes seem to be on you and you’re at a loss as what to do and you hate it.**

 

You think you should comfort him, talk to him, ask him how he’s doing but he’s all business. Eyes straight ahead, brusque to the point where it’s painful to try to talk to him about anything other than choreography. You think maybe you should offer your sympathies and ear to her but she’s not looking at you or him, instead she’s off in a corner looking with eyes that look a little too red and face that’s a little puffier than normal. You think that you’re not in the right place and it’s not the right time for any sort of event that calls them to act like adults or even be in the same room. You call your partner that night and he tells you to just breathe. And you do and then you go into rehearsals with your head down but ears open.

 

The tension is unbearable, you wonder who will snap first. They have to dance together but both look like they’d rather kill themselves than spend any more time in each other’s company. He looks pained and she looks tired. They staunchly avoid talking or looking at each other and you know it won’t last. And you pity them both. The cast keeps watching them like they’re spectators at some odd volleyball match, with those two as the stars. You spend more time hiding in the shadows as you feel the tension continue to boil to the point well past smoldering.

 

The next day, right before the show, he loses it _. She makes a snide comment, ripe with innuendo and hurt—that’s the moment you realize just how badly she’s hurt; he retaliates by overturning the chair next to him—that’s when you realize just how frazzled his self-control really is._ He storms out, cursing in Russian and slamming the door, hard enough for it to fall off the hinges. No one moves. His brother and best friend are sitting there eyes wide with shock but still no ones does anything as tears well in her eyes—it’s as if everyone is stuck in glue and the scene is happening in slow motion—until you stand because you can’t help it, you still care and leave the room and it’s deafening silence save for her sobs which have begun in earnest.

 

You follow him out into the hallway; you open the door and find him hunched over at the end of the hallway. **Anger, sadness, hurt, all present in his eyes as he looks blearily at you when you call his name—and then you see something else—you’ve seen it once before—a lost boy**. So you just can’t help yourself as you reach him you say in a voice you don’t recognize yet there’s some familiarity, “Hold my hand _.” As he reaches for your hand, you catch his eyes and you see something much like the old him—hope as you stand there in silence, waiting for the storm to pass with the knowledge that everything will be okay._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I couldn't give it quite the happy ending I know most would want it to have but I just don't always see them that way. But I decided to end it a little ambiguously so that you could choose how it would end. Thanks for reading, maybe I'll be more inspired to write about them more often but they're not always in my wheelhouse. Love to know everyone's thoughts so drop me a note!


End file.
